Once upon a time, 'our' lifeandtheprimadonnas was something to expose to the public and get cheered for some writing skills we never thought we had. But after three years of abandonment, it will be my perfect spot to excavate my daily buried rage. (Rage? Powerful word).
So it has been a full year in this land of far fucking away. Yes, it took a while, but we can say settling in is full term now. I've got a babysitter job in a flash firm, in glorified terms, EA aka Executive Assistant, aka Administrative Assistant in my words.
It is quite an upgrade from my start because there was no glorified term in my Genesis. Worked in the same firm, different employer, good shit post with lots of play time. In all honesty, I enjoyed my post, took care of it and like everything I do, was 100% committed and only after I left the post did I discover it was regarded as shit, by the dumber bigger babysitters.
Play time to me is in no way advantageous. I mingled with a myriad of sweethearts and scums, mostly sweethearts when categorized as 'the perfect strangers'. As the only black girl out of over 500 staff, it will be one colourful phrase stating 'we're friends'. (How did I get here?)
Dear half-wit,
There is a difference between a black American and an African. Please stop watching black movies to keep up with your idea of me.
I am African and even when slightly called American, I emphatically state "I am Nigerian." Unlike most Africans who would claim American in a heartbeat, most Nigerians claim what they are despite the varied synonyms like fraudsters and swindlers. Personally, the affiliation to being feared is gratifying.
The half-wit is beautiful with a weird mix of positivity and insecurity. I had to journey seven years back in behaviour but eventually, we grew close. She spoke about boys and people she didn't like only because they never spoke to her. She was a damned pleaser ever slaving to be in everyone's good book. It was painful to accommodate her insecurity and only a shrink could sustain such as a life long alliance. Besides, a relationship based on discussing people over ideas is doomed to fail.
I stay grateful to the half-wit only because she encouraged me to secure my current role which keeps me busy enough to productively utilize my spare time. When our paths crossed outside boy conversations and people she didn't like, I discovered what a sociopath she was. In the normal world, one good favour deserves another but sociopaths see others as objects to be used for benefits. Unfortunately, I was the object here, a victim (a side I hate to be on).
Karma is a bitch they say and vengeance makes a good story but in my opinion, it is a waste of time. However, forgiveness and forgetfulness are a myth. When bruised, patch up and move on.
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